Homecoming
by Kmiri Kalasin
Summary: “This is crazy,” Alan muttered to himself as he ducked a low hanging branch...Alan returns from the desert only to be given the task of tracking down Lianne after one of her long rides in the Royal Forest. Written as part of the Dove's spring fic exchange


A/N:Written for May for the Spring Exchange

**A/N:**_Written for May for the Spring Exchange. As always, thoughts/CC are welcome and appreciated._

"Uh oh,"

Alan didn't even bother turning to look at Gnat. He had grown accustomed to occasional exclamations or mutterings from the younger boy, who wanting to know what was like to be a squire, had offered to help unload the bedrolls, tents, and other supplies that Alan and his knight-master, Raoul, had brought back from the desert. Although he had originally been reluctant to accept the offer, Alan was rather enjoying the company and the help.

"What's an 'uh oh'? If you've broken or dropped anything, then don't worry, Lord Raoul's a good sort when it comes to mistakes, but remember that your own knight-master might not be so – "

"No," Gnat said, the concern in his voice causing Alan to look up from his task. The boy's attention was directed towards some boys that clustered around a little mare, dainty, mud splattered, and clearly not a warhorse of any type.

Alan caught sight of Prince Jasson in the group and called out to him,

"What have you got there?"

"Lianne's horse," he replied, a slightly disapproving note creeping into his voice. "Apparently Lianne went riding in the forest today, but her horse came back without a rider. I wouldn't worry though," he added, noting the look of alarm that crossed Alan's face. "Lianne's not one to stay lost for too long."

"Nor is she one to lose her horse," Alan pointed out, setting aside the canvas bag he had been holding,

Jasson smiled slyly, something a less distracted Alan would have quickly taken as a warning sign. Early on in life, Alan had learned to be wary of such smiles, particularly when they were coming from a Conté

"If you're so worried why don't you go find her yourself?" The prince glanced at Gnat before adding, "Besides, I'd imagine Lianne'll be quite glad to see you again, and if you were to show up as her rescuer, well, I can't imagine her reaction would be anything but…enthusiastic."

"Jasson – " Alan didn't miss the emphasis on the word enthusiastic.

"And who knows, perhaps she had this all planned. Maybe, she's just waiting for you to show up she can prove that devotion and young love don't go without reward."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" Alan started, not caring that he was talking to a prince of the realm.

"Young love?" Gnat interjected before Alan could draw attention away from himself.

"Didn't you know? Our Alan took quite the shine to Lianne before Raoul hauled him off to the desert."

"All right. You know what?" Alan said, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. He threw a dark look in Jasson's direction. "You want me to find your sister? Fine. But know that I am doing so because I can see that her own flesh and blood is leaving her to the wolves."

As he stalked off to saddle his horse, Alan heard Jasson saying loudly, "Say, Gnat, did anyone ever tell you about the time Alan spilled cider because Lianne was smiling at him?"

--

"This is crazy," Alan muttered to himself as he ducked a low hanging branch. He frowned in distaste. This was not how his return to Corus was supposed to have unfolded. It was supposed to have been a triumphant moment: Squire Alan riding home worldly and tanned, the envy of every boy at the palace after his long stay in the desert with the Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, the famed Giantkiller.

Instead, the would be glorious Squire Alan was trudging through the Royal Forest in search of a missing princess when he should have been back at the palace, unpacking, resting, or bathing.

_Bathing._

Alan would never admit it, but he genuinely enjoyed warm baths and found immense comfort in them. This was something he no doubt inherited from his mother because goodness knows no one would ever catch Baron George of Pirate's Swoop, former King of the Rogue reclining for hours on end in a washtub. Normally, he would have found this idea extremely comical: his father surrounded by bubbles and rifling through the infamous ear collection whose existence he and his siblings had never been able to prove, try as they might. Today, however, the image merely made him feel sick.

At the thought of a warm bath and being able to wash away the grime and dust of the homeward journey, Alan let out a wistful sigh. The way things were going today, a warm bath was not anywhere in the near future. To make matters worse, it was raining.

This situation was really all too cliché.

Just when Alan was about to declare his assignment to a fool's errand – more likely than not, Lianne had returned to the palace on foot – he rounded a bend and caught sight of what appeared to be a very wet and muddy looking figure.

"Lianne!" he called out, dismounting from his horse to approach the miserable looking princess.

At the sound of his voice, she raised her head and let out a small noise that was something between a gasp and a moan.

"I can't believe this."

"Well," he started, not sure he had heard her correctly, "that's not quite the greeting I had imagined."

"No, it's not that," she said quickly, "it's just that I'm a mess and you…I thought you were in the desert with Raoul."

"We were called back and while I was in the stables your horse turned up sans you – "

"Traitor."

Alan smiled slightly at her venomous tone, before kneeling down next to her and taking in her bedraggled appearance.

"What have you been doing, anyway? Making mud pies?"

Suddenly, Lianne looked extremely uncomfortable; she looked away and began to play nervously with the loose string on her dress. Alan became uneasy.

"You weren't really trying to lure someone out here, were you?"

"What?" Her gaze shot back to his face, the flat tone of her voice conveying exactly what Lianne thought of that suggestion.

"Never mind. Just something Jasson said about you laying a trap for me," Alan muttered aware that his ears were turning a distinctive shade of pink.

"And you believed _Jasson_? Really, you must think a lot of yourself. Do you really think I have time to lay traps for unsuspecting squires? My sister-in-law just gave birth to the first Conté heir to be without blue eyes, my father's about to have a nervous breakdown because of said eye color, I have a horse that runs away from me, and you believe that trying to seduce childhood playmates I didn't even know were back in Corus is one of my priorities?"

Alan, feeling thoroughly chastised, nodded and waited for Lianne to break the awkward silence. She looked as if she were struggling between whether it would be better to reply with the truth or a lie.

"I was jumping the ravine where my grandfather died."

"You what?" Alan's felt a flash of sudden, violent emotion that he couldn't name. Anger? Fear? "Are you insane, woman?"

"I wanted to see if it was really an accident," Lianne said, her voice so earnest that he couldn't help but feel soothed, if only slightly. "My mare cleared it easily, but I fell off when she landed."

Alan gave her a disbelieving stare. The idea of Lianne, the skilled horsewoman who had been learning K'miri trick ridding since virtually before she mounted a horse, falling off when her mare landed was improbable, beyond improbable; it was impossible.

"You don't understand, Alan. It was amazing, just like flying. I couldn't resist and I let go of the reins."

"How could you, Lianne?" He was incredulous. "You could have killed yourself! Think what that would have done to the palace. To your father, losing two family members to the same ravine? Your mother? Your siblings? Me?"

"You would have been upset?"

"You know I would have," Alan snapped, still distracted by the idea of Lianne taking her life in her hands like that. "I never got to say a proper farewell before I left – "

Lianne leaned closer, placing one small hand on his knee.

"Is that the only reason?"

Alan gulped and quickly looked away from those perceptive brown eyes, so unlike any of her other siblings'. He remembered that it had been her eyes that he had noticed when she had first introduced herself as Lianne of Conté. He had looked at her skeptically, not quite believing that she was who she claimed to be. Alan shook his head, trying to clear his head of the memory. It was too sappy to be thinking about first meetings now when they were alone in the rain, close enough to –

He turned his attention back to the present problem, Lianne and her odd fascination with courting death by ravine jumping.

"I still can't believe you let go," he muttered. Lianne's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Come on, let me show you."

Before Alan could protest, she was up and hobbling over to his horse, wincing slightly with the effort. The sight of her awkward movement made Alan realize that he hadn't thought to ask about her physical well-being, if she'd twisted anything or been bruised in any way.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked as she tried to clamber up into his saddle

"What does it look like I'm doing? Going back to the ravine."

"You can barely walk." Alan scowled at her and her silence.

"The whole point of my coming out here was to bring you back to the palace all in one piece."

"Exactly, and you'd be doing a much better job of ensuring that if you were over here instead of over there gaping at me."

"But you're on my horse," Alan pointed out, hoping to stop Lianne before she went through with this crazy notion. Jumping the ravine once was teasing fate; jumping twice in one day was downright foolish. Positively begging for death or injury.

"I can barely walk." Lianne sounded ridiculously smug as she tossed his words back at him. "Besides, there's room enough for two. Get on."

That was undeniably an order.

--

"Lianne, are you sure you want to do this?" Alan was feeling queasy looking at the expanse of ravine before them. What Thom teasingly called Alan's "sensitive nerves" were already strained by the distance his horse would be jumping, not to mention the fact that it was still raining.

"I told you, it's – "

"Just like flying," Alan finished for her, "I know. But I've been flying enough times before, when I'm jousting with Lord Raoul."

"Then this should be no problem for you," Lianne said, flashing a careless smile over her shoulder at him. She carefully backed up Alan's steed to give them some time to gain momentum.

"Ready?" she asked, checking to make sure Alan was seated firmly behind her.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Hold on."

And they were off.

As they moved closer and closer to the ravine, picking up speed as they went, Alan felt sure his heart was going to burst through his chest and splatter across the back of Lianne's already mud-soaked dress. Before he could even close his eyes, they were sailing across the ravine.

"Lianne!" He cried in alarm grabbing both her waist and the reins as Lianne let out a cry of delight and raised her arms as if she were indeed flying.

When they landed on the other side, Lianne was laughing, shaking the rain from her eyes. She turned around as best she could to look at Alan.

"What did I tell you?"

He wanted to reply that it was utterly terrifying, but the sight of the smiling young woman in front of him made it impossible for Alan to be a complete spoil sport.

"It was something," he allowed.

"You know you liked it more than you're willing to admit."

Lianne flashed another careless smile at him, her face inches away from his. Alan was suddenly, acutely aware of the fact that his arm was still wrapped securely about her waist. Perhaps even more than that, he was aware of the fact that Lianne hadn't shaken away his grip on her. He allowed himself a moment to slowly take in Lianne's wet hair and clothes, the way enjoyment and pleasure seemed absolutely radiate off of her, and their close proximity to each other. Not entirely to his surprise, Alan found himself wanting them to be like this again, happy, relaxed, carefree, and together. He'd even be willing to take the rain.

"Much more." He let his words hang. On an impulse, Alan reached out and gently, tenderly brushed aside the few strands of wet hair that were clinging to Lianne's face.

Before she could say a word, he reached around her to take up the reins, continuing with a smile, "Of course, I'll never admit to you exactly how much more. A little bit of suspense is probably good for you. Don't you think?"

Lianne, adjusting to this new arrangement, settled herself lightly against his chest and made a small noise of disapproval at his words. Alan smiled again.

"Now let's get you home, shall we?"


End file.
